


Fleeing The Family

by LadyIsme



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Edwardian Period, F/M, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Male Aziraphale (Good Omens), Male Crowley (Good Omens), Mild Language, RMS Titanic, mild angst at start, some nudity, various and sundry human bystander OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIsme/pseuds/LadyIsme
Summary: This is the prompt "Aziraphale is an angel who did not so much fall as say, "Fuck this noise" and take a flying leap. At least, that's what he'd like to be. Something happens to make Aziraphale feel disillusioned with heaven once and for all. He decides that he no longer wants anything to do with the angels. What happens to finally break him is author's choice, but it's bad enough that he'd literally rather be in league with Hell. After all, demons at least have the freedom to do the decent thing when no one's looking, right? There's just one problem: Aziraphale can't seem to figure out what it takes to make an angel fall these days. He can't stand the thought of truly harming humanity, but there has to be something he can do. So he calls Crowley to ask for help.At first, Crowley is angry . Aziraphale has no idea what he's asking, and if he truly understood what *falling* from Heaven meant, he wouldn't ask for such a thing. But then, he sees reason and agrees to help him figure out what will finally trigger the wrath of the almighty. Or so, Aziraphale thinks."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31
Collections: Good Omens Kink Meme





	1. The Last Straw

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I decided to at least start Aziraphale off in a female form for several reasons first I think it helps to get the angel out of his comfort zone, second it works better with the time period and finally, lets be honest, it is so much more fun to trash a ball gown than a tux.  
> I promise to get to the hijinx in future chapters.

The Date: April the 15, 1912 A.D.

It took a lot to get Aziraphale angry, it truly did. Generally speaking the Principality was of a bright and bubbly disposition and so, unlike some other angels, who were more prone to heavenly wrath, The Guardian of the Eastern Gate was almost always able to find an excuse to remain cheerful come what may. Yes it took a lot to make Aziraphale well and truly pissed but this time Gabriel may have finally pulled it off. There Aziraphale stood, in her female form, silver Edwardian ball gown dripping salt water all over the floor and sea weed tangled in her sodden wings. A crab was swinging from her long curly white blond hair by one claw and snapping at her ear with the other claw. Meanwhile The Arch Angel-Fucking-Gabriel lectured her about _her_ incompetence.

It should have been a simple enough mission. Guide a wealthy widow out of her grief and withdrawal by inspiring her to start a new charity that would help thousands and give the widows life renewed purpose. Thus it was that Aziraphale had dutifully taken on her more lady like appearance and made a reservation on the ship where she was to meet up with her target. Things were made slightly more complicated when Gabriel decided to cut off her access to miracles, to encourage efficiency and resourcefulness he head said, but still nothing that she couldn't handle. At least that was what she thought when she boarded the HMS Titanic a few days ago at South Hampton.

Of course neither Earth or Heaven could have foreseen that Duke Hastur of Hell, on a drunken wager no less, would decide to move a great bloody iceberg in front of the ship thus turning a peaceful and pleasant evening into hell frozen over. This would not have been such a problem if Aziraphale had access to her miracles, a quick snap and the ship would have missed its brush with disaster. But no, she was cut off from her power and so as helpless as the humans who were her fellow passengers. Still, she felt no need to panic, the ship was clearly taking its time in sinking, a quick call to Heaven to remove the power block and she would be able to mitigate much of the damage. Some extra room in the main lifeboats here the miraculous discovery of a shipment of collapsible boats there, a touch of extra heavenly protection and speed for any ship coming to the rescue and the end of the Titanic would not have to be a death sentence for so many. At least so Aziraphale thought until she made the call and found the line blocked. Turns out the Archangels were in a conference and were not to be disturbed.

Thus it was that, having been reduced to using only human methods, Aziraphale set out to help however she could. Naturally as a lady traveling in first class she could have easily found a seat in the lifeboats if she wanted but she just could not bring herself to take a seat from some poor soul who would have more need of it. Eventually the ship went down pulling hundreds of human souls and one very tired and frustrated angel down with it. As the icy water washed over her Aziraphale could do no more but brace for a watery discorporation and worse the paperwork that was bound to follow when suddenly she felt something warm wrap around her and pull. The next moment, feeling the sudden sensation of a solid dry floor beneath her Aziraphale opened her eyes to the brightness of Heaven and a truly pissed off Arch Angel Gabriel. 


	2. The Plunge (Falling Attempt #1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphales first attempt at Falling does not go as expected.

If Aziraphale was inclined at first to feel both touched and relieved that at least Gabriel cared enough to come to her rescue, she was quickly disillusioned as it became clear that the only reason her supervisor had bothered to save her feathered ass was to cover his own. Apparently, when an angel gets discorporated it is common procedure to have an investigation into what went wrong. Such an investigation would have surly raised some awkward questions for the Archangel like, _"Why didn't your agent have her powers? Why was she unable to call upon Heaven for help?"_ and of course the ever popular _"What do you mean no one had bothered to check for demonic activity?"_. Happily for Gabriel, he had managed to doge that bullet by fishing out his subordinate, like a half drowned rat, at the last moment. Now he could soundly shift all blame onto her and her alone in the reports, how fortunate for him.

By the time Aziraphale was done with her debriefing she was so disenchanted with the rest of The Heavenly Host that she wished she could simply shout **"I QUIT!"** and be done with the whole lot of them. Unfortunately when one was an angel it was not so simple. The only way for an angel to not be part of The Host was to Fall and the only way to Fall was if God Herself did the pushing... or was it? What would happen if an angel decided to "show herself out" as it were? It had never been tried before, never even considered, but now Aziraphale was considering it very seriously. She supposed it would be quite painful to plunge from the highest point in Heaven just to crash land into a lake of fire in the lowest pit of Hell and she doubted that the reception she would receive in Hell would be a welcome one. 

On the other hand though, as a demon she may well enjoy greater freedom to do as she wished so long as it didn't contradict with her evil mission and however horrible the rest of Hell might be at least there would be one demon who would likely welcome her, Crowley. As long as they where on opposite sides they dare not publicly acknowledge each other as more than rivals. However, if she Fell then they could finally openly be friends. Maybe, perhaps with time, something even more? Even if they didn't ever become a romantic couple, surly having Crowley as a companion in Hell would put her head and shoulders above her situation in Heaven where not a single angel in all The Host had had a kind word for her for millennia. Already she could imagine the whispers of the rest of the host spreading the story that Gabriel would no doubt put out about the whole disaster thus cementing her as "The angel who was responsible for the sinking of the Titanic" for all of **ETERNETY!** Surly no torment of Hell could compare to That! So with her mind made up Aziraphale went to one of the back entrances to Heaven and, making sure no one was around to notice, she stood on the ledge, took a deep breath and tucking her wings tightly closed, she jumped!

As the Angel plummeted down though there was someone who did notice. After all God notices everything and She had no intention of letting her favorite Principality damn herself over something as foolish as some Archangel being an ass. However, the All Mighty was also never above taking full advantage of a "teachable moment" when it came up. So with a couple of minor nudges to the angels trajectory and a bit of extra protection to keep said wayward angel from actually breaking though the Earths surface, She smiled and sat back to watch the show. If She played the cards right, She might just be able to finalize a match that She has had in the works for close to six thousand years, a whole century ahead of schedule.

Down, down, down, faster and faster Aziraphale fell. Flames danced around her as she tore through the Earths atmosphere and yet she herself had not been burned. No doubt she would have thought this odd, if she had not been preoccupied with the ground coming up in front of her fast and large. "It won't be long now" she thought as she closed her eyes and waited to crash through the Earths crust. Like a brilliant comet the Principality struck the surface of the World and... bounced. With a start her eyes flew open and she let out a most undignified yelp as she was tossed head over heals back up through the air and down again to land oh so very hard on her bottom and bounced back up again. Flailing helplessly she once more tumbled through the air only to land and finally come to rest, face first in the mire and mud of what used to be a bountiful fishing pond before it became choked with silt. Cold, muddy, sore and wetter than ever, Aziraphale watched the muck drip from her still undeniably angelic wing and cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, clearly Aziraphale is being a bit dramatic here but in her defense, she has had a really bad day!  
> Hopefully this chapter will conclude most of the angst so that we can get on with the funny stuff.


	3. Enter the Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes Crowley.

In the countryside of Edwardian England, not far from the Scottish border, stood a large, once grand, country manor house. Widely reputed to be cursed, it loomed over the surrounding area like a grey ghost, locked and shuttered against the world of the living and yet, it was somehow not what one would expect of an abandoned building. Supposedly no one had lived there for decades, and yet, the dark and imposing mansion never fell into dilapidation. Its structure never became infested with insects or dry rot, its roof and façade were never damaged by foul weather, no matter what storm may blow through and its floor boards remained unbent by damp or age. The surrounding gardens and green houses seemed to almost take care of themselves, no weeds ever sprung up among the thriving flowers, no trimmed bush ever out grew its shape and no leaves littered the empty walkways. Not a blade of grass was out of place, the gardens were as immaculate as they were deathly silent, not a single bird or insect dared to cross the garden wall even as the wider estate grounds had long since gone back to the wild just beyond its gates.

Likewise, no thief or vandal had ever dared to approach, let alone enter, the eerie halls of this clearly haunted mansion. However, if one such soul had been brave enough, or drunk enough, to have actually crossed the threshold and explored the ancient edifice, he would have been horrified to discover that this manor was not unoccupied after all. For coiled upon the oversized bed of the master bedroom was a truly gigantic serpent, with scales black as a storm at midnight upon its back, blood red scales along its belly and alluring eyes the color of honey, gazing in open eyed slumber with such a deep hypnotic power that any would be intruder would upon seeing them have been instantly drawn in to his certain doom. But by far the most surprising feature that our hypothetical, and probably short lived, explorer would have discovered about this snake would be the fact that he wasn't truly a snake at all but the rightful owner of the manor house. 

Demon Crowley had retreated to his country estate in a fit of frustration around the start of Queen Victoria's reign and once there he had shifted into his more serpentine form, the better to hibernate in, before taking to his bed and not bothering to rouse himself since. But now a change in the air was working to rouse him whether he wanted to be roused or not. Warning shivers raced up and down his spine at the rapid building of a nearby angelic presence. Shivers that became a full body jolt startling Crowley back into the world of the waking as he sensed that angelic presence suddenly and violently touch down near by. Something was happening and Crowley intended to find out what. Cautiously he slithered out a side door of the great house and slid through the gardens, sticking as much to the safety of the shadows as much as possible, he slipped through a hole under the garden wall that he had dug long ago for just such a purpose and glided through the woods until he came to the shore of a silt clogged pond and stopped short in surprise. He had found the angel that had disturbed his nap alright, but instead of the pristine, pompous wanker he had been expecting, this angel was absolutely filthy and dejected and, now that he could focus in on it, there was something familiar about that aura. 

"Azzziraphale isss that you?" He hissed in disbelief.

Never had he seen his angel in such a state.

"Oh! Oh, Crowley you frightened me my dear." said the angel in question.

"What the Heaven are you doing sitting in a mire, in your female form, wearing a fancy gown and... is that a roasted lobster in your hair?"

At that question Aziraphales eyes began to flood with tears again and her lip started to tremble. Crowley quickly shifted to his more human corporation and held up his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"Calm down angel it will be alright."

Next thing the demon knew, he had his arms full of a sobbing Aziraphale as she poured out the whole story, the mission the restriction of power, THE TITANIC, her reception in Heaven, all of it. Crowley listened to it all as he tried to control his building rage. How dare that wanker Gabriel put his angel through all that! For the first time in history the demon actually wished for the End Times to hurry up and arrive just so he could try to rip that pompous ass apart with his bear claws. Suddenly, all thoughts about the most creative way to kill an Archangel were cut short by a cold blast horror when his angel got to the part about how she had decided to let herself Fall.

"You What!" he said in disbelief.

"I thought it would be better for everyone if I went ahead and Fell and so I jumped. Only, it didn't work, all that happened when I hit the Earth was that I got bounced into this mudhole." Aziraphale replied, oblivious to his friends reaction.

"And what the Heaven made you think that becoming a demon was a good idea?"

"Well, at least I wouldn't be facing an eternity of being _'The angel who failed to save The Titanic'_!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "Oh I know that it would be painful, but I hoped that once I was through the initial torments that I might at least have some leeway to be myself."

"I doubt that the dark council would be as generous as that."

"Well, its a mute point anyway because apparently I don't have the slightest idea how to go about Falling anyway." the angel sulked.

Crowley was just about to sigh in relief at that when the angel suddenly continued "Unless... Oh Crowley would you teach me how to Fall?"

The demon sputtered at this sudden request, hoping he had misheard but fearing that he had not.

"Oh please" Aziraphale continued "I truly don't think I could bear it if I had to face Heaven again!"

"Alright" Crowley said as his brain restarted itself, "I'll _'help'_ you out, but I want you to promise me that if you do not Fall within the next week then we'll try to think of something else, understood?"

"Very well my dear, I'm so relieved that your willing to help. I'm sure that everything will turn out alright now."

"Don't worry angel it will all go just as I plan, trust me" the wily old tempter soothed while suppressing a wicked smile. Operation Keep-The-Angel-Angelic was a go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to actually type this chapter but the good news is that I have never stopped writing the draft so hopefully I can make it up to you by getting the next chapter out really soon.
> 
> Also, due to events in the next chapter I have decided to go ahead and bump the rating for this story up to Mature just to be safe. Now if you'll excuse me I need to go figure out how to get Aziraphale to put some clothes on so that this story can move forward.


	4. Wardrobe Malfunction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a wayward angel gets all cleaned up.

The first order of business obviously was for Crowley to get his angel cleaned and warmed. So it was that dawn found Aziraphale taking a nice hot bath back at Crowleys mansion whilst Crowley himself made a quick flight into London to pick up a clean outfit from the bookstore where his angel lived. While there, he also took the time to cast a quick bit of demonic camouflage about himself and take a quick look around town to see how much had changed. The willy serpent also made a mental note to himself to keep an eye out for any inspiration for how best to _"help"_ his angel. Suddenly he spotted an ice-cream parlor not far from Soho and smiled at the many sweets he saw displayed, _"that will do"_ he thought and whistled merrily as he continued to the bookstore.

Meanwhile, back at the manor, Aziraphale had just gotten out of a nice hot bath and was toweling down. She took a look at herself in a dusty mirror and decided that it was high time to change back into her more comfortable and familiar male form. She snapped her fingers and nothing. She frowned in confusion, surly she should be able to perform such a simple miracle by now, after all Gabriel had said that the power block was only to last for the duration of the mission which meant that it should have dissipated as soon as she had arrived in Heaven. Just to be sure the angel snapped again with no result and sighed.

"Chalk one more annoyance up to Gabriel overlooking the details" she muttered to herself as she went back to drying herself off.

Meanwhile, watching her children from afar, God chuckled to herself. The power block had dissipated as soon as her Principality had returned to Heaven but God had reinstated it as soon as she sensed her little angels intention to jump. 

"It's for your own good my dove" The Almighty softly said to the image of the angel she was watching. It would not do to let things get too out of hand after all. 

"Besides," God continued, "this way you shall have to learn to rely on that handsome demon of yours a little more than you have in the past."

With that God switch the channel to watch said handsome demon rummage around the apartment above the bookshop for clothes. She snorted in amusement at the image before continuing her monolog. 

"As for you my slippery little snake, I think having to worry about how to protect your beloved angel while she is so vulnerable will do wonders for that reckless streak of yours." 

The Almighty then summoned up a tray with a selection of her favorite snacks, settled back to enjoy the show and smiled.

Crowley emerged from the bookstore with one of Aziraphales regular outfits just as the world was awakening to the news of the Titanic. Despite being anxious to return to his angel, the demon couldn't help but feel curious about the topic given the account he received from Aziraphale and so he bought several papers to see how the humans were reacting. Three news articles in and he was starting to regret looking. The actual information on what went wrong and how many had died seemed to be sparse and contradictory but the one point that everyone could agree on was that whatever had happened had been horrific, truly a disaster for the ages. The sensationalism, scapegoating, wild speculation and near gleeful trumpeting of potential fatalities only served to make Crowley all the more satisfied at the thought that Beelzebub had enacted his recommendations on what torture would best suit a tabloid journalist upon reaching Hell. Clearly he could not let his angel read any of these. With that in mind Crowley left London for his country manor and Aziraphale.

"Angel I'm home" Crowley called as he walked through the front door of his abode.

"I'm up here my dear" called back a surprisingly female voice from an upstairs guestroom. 

Frowning slightly to himself Crowley carried the distinctly male outfit up to the room to find sure enough, a still fully female Aziraphale wrapped in towels and seated pouting on the bed.

"Hey angel, I thought that you would have changed back by now." 

Aziraphale pouted even more causing Crowleys stomach to turn a small summersault.

"I've tried my dear," the angel said' "but no matter how hard I concentrate I can't seem to get even the smallest miracle to work. I can only conclude that Heaven has not lifted the block on my powers and until they do I am stuck like this."

"Well I brought you some of your regular clothes but I don't think they'll work for you right now" the demon responded.

"No indeed, given my current circumstances I'm afraid they would be seen as most inappropriate but I still appreciate the thought my dear."

Crowley sighed and then cracked his knuckles while eyeing his best friend critically.

"Alright angel, stand up and strip for me."

"I beg your pardon?!" Aziraphale exclaimed.

"If I am to miracle you some suitable clothes, I need to know what I'm working with _Angel._ "

The Angel in question did not look convinced by that. In fact she was glaring suspiciously in his direction while puffing herself up with affronted dignity which when combined with the large soft towels that she was wrapped in only served to make her look like a particularly soft and fluffy bunny with an attitude. Crowley however was wise enough to keep that observation to himself. After all just because she couldn't smite him outright at the moment didn't mean that she wasn't still enough of a bastard to make his life very uncomfortable. Instead he tried once again to make her see reason.

"Angel..."

"Don't you _'Angel'_ me you fiend! If I am to be stuck in a female form then I shall at least be a proper lady and proper ladies do not just uncover themselves for every tall handsome and demonically charming rouge that they chance to meet." 

"First off," Crowley growled, "you would be amazed at just how many _'proper ladies'_ do precisely that and more upon encountering a devilish rouge, thankyou very much. Second off, just what do you plan to do for clothes? What was left of the gown you came in disintegrated as soon as you took it off, you can't simply miracle yourself a replacement because your powerless and I know for a fact that you never mastered sewing so unless your planning on introducing yourself as The Lady Godiva, I'm all you have right now _Angel._ " 

Aziraphale just huffed and turned up her noise in an affronted pose that was right out of a cheap romance novel. Dear Satan, did Crowley regret introducing Aziraphale to those. Oh, sure it had been great at first to scandalize the angel with such literary drivel and then later he had gained no end of amusement at needling the angel over his new guilty pleasure, but now it seemed they had given that celestial feather-brain _**ideas,**_ ideas that she was now using against him while loving every minute of it. Perhaps it was time for a change of tactics, after all if Aziraphale wanted to be a demon it might do her good to get a taste of what kind of treatment a demon could expect. With a snap of his fingers the towels wrapped about the heavenly creature before him disappeared and said heavenly creature promptly squeaked in surprise before flushing with divine wrath. 

"How dare you take advantage of the situation like this! To think that I trusted you!" the powerless angel howled.

Crowley roared back "Your trying to Fall remember! If you want to be a demon so badly then it is high time you learned to act like one and demons do **NOT** do modesty ever, got it! We most certainly, do not play the pure innocent damsel. _We_ are the _vixens_ of the story, out to have as good a time as possible while dragging as many lustful young men and women as possible down to the fiery pits so stop acting indignant and show me what a sultry little siren you are. Unless, of course you don't think you can handle it."

"You, you...you are right." The Principality responded suddenly shifting from outraged to deflated. "You're right as usual of course, I had not considered that until just now."

Indeed she hadn't, up until that point it had never occurred to Aziraphale that in switching Heaven for Hell she might just be trading one set of social expectations that she could never fill for another or that she could be just as uncomfortable with playing the demon as she was playing the angel. The thought really was somewhat sad. Was there no place in all of Earth, Heaven or Hell where she could be herself?

"Hey, it's alright angel" Crowley reassured her, "You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to."

"No I want to keep trying" Aziraphale replied, "Even if I can no more be my true self as a demon than as an angel, at least as a demon I shall no longer need to fear that our friendship will endanger your life. That is worth the sacrifice in my eyes. So tell me what now?"

"What?!" said Crowley, still reeling from hearing his precious angel state that she would gladly Fall for him.

"Well, I haven't the slightest clue how to play the vixen like a proper demon should, so now that you have me naked, what now? Should I saunter enticingly across the room like this?" the angel said while doing her best to mimic Crowleys sexiest walk and failing miserably. She just didn't have a flexible enough corporation for it so instead of looking graceful and tempting she only managed to look awkward and unbalanced.

"Lets concentrate on getting you into costume first." the demon said while giving the hapless angel a hand up. "We'll go over the art of mass seduction some other time." _(As in NEVER!)_ Crowley thought to himself.

"Very well my dear, what sort of attire did you have in mind?" the angel asked.

"Just stand in front of the mirror and we can try out a few ideas."

Crowley snapped his fingers and suddenly Aziraphale was fully clothed in an attractive day dress similar to one that Crowley had caught a glimpse of in a store window on his jaunt to London. Although, he did make a few modifications to better suit the angels build as well as making it the exact same shade of blue as her eyes.

"How's this?"

"Oh Crowley it is exquisite, but.." 

"But, What but?"

"It's just that I wonder if it will suit. I am trying to become a demon after all. Shouldn't I look the part?"

Crowley thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers again, instantly the blue fabric became black, the neckline plunged lower as the tailored fit adjusted itself to better emphasize the angels generous breasts as they peeked out from behind the black lace chemise. The old serpent could not help a pleased smile at how good his handy work looked on his angel. Yet Aziraphale seemed unsure as she gazed in the mirror.

"What's the matter angel, not demonic enough?"

"Oh no, it's an absolute work of art my dear, I'm just not sure that I'm up to the task of doing it justice, I mean I know that I've never had the most attractive of..."

"Angel you are temptation incarnate no matter what you wear, trust me I would know."

"If you say so" she replied.

"I do say so. Now about the trim."

With a snap Aziraphale was suddenly wearing black boots, black linen gloves and a black straw hat that set off her naturally fair features like a mural of safire and pearl set into a frame of shadow. She was ready to face the world.

"Well now" said Aziraphale "best not waist the morning."

Just then the old clock in the hall struck noon.

"Oh Dear."

"Not to worry angel, wasting time is a prized quality among demons." 

"But Crowley my dear, don't you remember that we only have a week to make me Fall? That doesn't give us much time to waste."

"Of course it does angel! Why I managed to Fall within two days of being created without even trying, so your talking to an expert. Now lets enjoy some lunch."

"Well," said Aziraphale, "I am feeling peckish, very well lead the way."

So the old snake led his angelic companion to what would be a very long and leisurely lunch with a satisfied smile curling his lips. Half a day gone six and a half to go.

From her vantage point on a higher plane of existence The Almighty was also quit pleased with how the morning had gone. Her angel had been forced to recognize that Falling was not the cure for all her problems and had even admitted to both herself and to Crowley that her feelings for him where her main motivation for trying to Fall. Now if only she would recognize that those feelings were not just friendship but fully fledged romantic love. As for Crowley, he was slowly but surly starting to have to confront his own attraction for Aziraphale. Neither of them were willing just yet to acknowledge the implications of those feelings of course, but the week was young. God smiled from her thrown, yes there was still plenty of time for that and if at any point her dear children got stuck, she could always send a helpful nudge to guide them in the right direction. 


	5. School Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempt #2 at falling let the pranks begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back sorry for the long delay but cleaning up after a hurricane will tend to do that. Slight warning for references to corporal punishment in a school setting this story does take place in 1912 after all. With that out of the way I hope you enjoy chapter 5.

Over the course of a large and scrumptious lunch Crowley laid out his "plan" to get Aziraphale to Fall and was a little put out that the angel was not instantly on board with his scheme.

"It's not that I doubt your diabolicalness my dear, it's just are you sure that I'm involved enough to count as a accessory? After all being the diversion is just a bit role in the over all mischief."

"Angel do you have any idea how many demons there are in Hell who considered themselves as being only barley involved with Lucifer and his main crew? Thousands. If you are involved then your involved, if you are not then you are not. There is no in-between, no _'j_ _ust barley'_ no _'_ _only a bit role'_ or _'i_ _nsignificant part'."_

"In that case when and where did you have in mind?"

"The Methodist School for Poor Waifs this afternoon. You shall have to occupy the old battle axe in charge of the place and I shall do the heavy lifting with the miracles."

The local Methodist school was set up as a charitable institution to provide a good and god fearing education for the children of the poor and working class families in the area back in the early days of Victoria's reign and had grown steadily ever since. As was often the case with such social/Christian works of this time period and culture it was run with the very best of intentions but could in many cases be unintentionally stifling and oppressive. The highly decorated stonework of the building, intended to be grand and inspiring, instead came off as grim and imposing. The plain white walls of the classrooms adorned only with a chalk board and the occasional painted lines of scripture were meant to bolster mental and spiritual growth, but only succeeded in smothering the students god given creativity and while the basic skills taught were indeed well chosen to provide a good educational foundation for many walks of life, in the end society railroaded most of the girls into a life in service while the boys would tend to go for farm labor or factory work.

Even so it would be wrong to condemn the school as a waste for even with all its short falls it did succeed in enriching the lives of its pupils. A young factory worker who was inspired to save for a barometer here, a maid who keeps a diary there, a rough and ready farmer taking a break to read a cheap penny dreadful while enjoying his lunch. Small pleasures perhaps, but after all is it not the little things that truly make life on Earth so sweet? Crowley for one certainly thought so, which is why he planned, with the help of his angel of course, to make things even sweeter for the old schools unsuspecting students. 

Afternoon recess was in full swing, the children were running and playing games in the schoolyard as was normal. Meanwhile the Head Mistress was having a meeting with a very abnormal potential patron indeed. It started out mundane enough, a wealthy toff by the name of Lady Azira Fell had come by and claimed that she was interested in helping to support the school. She hadn't bothered with making an appointment mind, but that was toffs for you, always acted like the world revolved around them, and so the Head Mistress Lemondrop had braced herself for a dry, longwinded and possibly slightly annoying meeting over money matters. What she got instead was an in depth and very fiery running debate on, among other things, the state of the schools lunch menu, the accuracy of several of the scripture verses painted on the school walls and the so called merits of studying King Author as a part of history instead of just folklore and literature. Even so the stern old scholar had to admit that she was enjoying the argument even as she huffed in exasperation at having her hard won knowledge and ability as a teacher so blatantly challenged by the strange woman excitedly chattering away before her.

"Lady Azira while I appreciate your interest in our academic endeavors, our curriculum is set by the Board of Governors, therefore you shall have to take your suggestions to them."

"Oh, I shall Head Mistress Lemondrop, indeed I plan to but your own stance on my propositions would surely hold more weight with them then my own. After all you are the head teacher here. If you could just see your way to supporting my assertions that a direct Greek to English translation of the Bible would be so much more accurate than the Greek to Latin to English version in use now then I am sure we should make some progress. Of course, in an ideal world, one should draw from the original source but alas, some things are simply no longer practical."

Mrs. Lemondrop closed her eyes for a moment as she fought to maintain her stern façade never dreaming that a far greater test of her composer was currently lurking about the old schools classrooms. A test of composer named Crowley, who was having the time of his demonic life _redecorating_ the hallowed halls of learning to suite his latest chaotic whim. With a self satisfied smirk he cast a last approving glance at his handy work before slithering off to an ideal vantage point to watch the mayhem as the schools teachers started to ring their hand bells to call the children in from playing.

Meanwhile Mrs. Lemondrop looked distinctly as if she had swallowed a bug as she struggled to respond to Lady Aziras' latest volley in their "discussion" over the school curriculum. _'Oh dear'_ thought the angel in disguise _'perhaps I should not have mentioned what Authors Knights got up to on their drinking night'._ Aziraphale was just about to consider going easier on her opponent, the poor lamb was only human after all, when the chime on her watch necklace chimed signaling that Crowley had completed his mission and it was time to cut and run.

"Oh my, look at the time! I am sorry to cut this discussion short Mrs. Lemondrop but I have a pressing engagement."

"Of course my lady, it has been an interesting conversation and I hope that we can rely on you to call in the future" Mrs. Lemondrop politely responded.

With the parting niceties out of the way Aziaphale departed to meet with Crowley and the frazzled head mistress breathed a deep calming breath as she sat back and closed her eyes for a moment of peace before getting back to work. Sadly this moment was interrupted by the panicked knocking of an assistant teacher on the office door.

"What is it?" Mrs. Lemondrop called in answer to the knock.

"Head Mistress, come quick its an emergency!"

"Calm down Ms. Taylor what precisely is the problem?"

"The classrooms, they've been tampered with! They, they..."

"Alright Ms. Taylor, I'm coming, lets go have a look."

Head Mistress Lemondrop followed her subordinate down the hall to the first classroom wondering just how bad it could be. After all, many a class clown had tried to tamper with the classrooms in small ways over the years. From insulting pictures and scrawl on the blackboards (or sometimes the walls), to woopie cushions in the chairs, to rotten eggs set under desk legs, the list of impish pranks dreamed up by precocious children was truly as long as it was harmless and certainly no more than the classroom teachers could handle. Then she actually entered the first class and saw the damage.

"This is no child's handy work." She thought as her jaw dropped at the spectacle before her.

In short the room was upside down. The children's benches and desks were all still in neat and tidy rows with the teachers desk and chair placed front and center before them. But, the feet of every piece of furniture was resting on the ceiling rather than upon the floor. Whilst the floor was covered by a smattering of lighting fixtures spread out at their regular intervals and still dispersing light, each one standing ramrod strait at the end of its tether as if still being pulled towards the desks above (below?) them by gravity. However the thing that had most caught the children's attention in the midst of this chaos was the simply set out among the lights and loaded down with more cakes, biscuits, candies and other sweeties than Head Mistress Lemondrop had ever seen in her entire life. The fact that the whole spread had been themed after Alice's tea party in Wonderland of course only served to gin the already excited children up even further and now the poor classroom teacher was faced with the challenge of trying to regain control over a classroom full of hyperactive sugar rush enhanced children gleefully bouncing around a fantasy setting.

Fortunately for the sanity of every adult in the building, Mrs. Lemondrop was experienced enough as a teacher to know how to turn just about anything into a learning experience. Taking a deep breath, she regained the children's attention by reaching over with her left hand to switch off the power to the lights, while with her right hand she reached for the paddle that always hung from her belt, just in case. Swigging hard she brought the paddle against the wall with a mighty CRACK! That crack instinctively caught the ear of every child in that room and by instinct they all knew what that crack was. It was the sound of authority, of discipline and of consequences paid out by sore aching bottoms and at that sound every child fell silent and looked to the Head Mistress. Mrs. Lemondrop smiled as she switch back on the lights and addressed the class.

"Now children if you could all take a seat at the table, today we shall review manners and dinning etiquette is not that right Ms. Sweepes."

"Of course Head Mistress" responded the rooms teacher, showing that she had received her marching orders.

"Very good then, carry on."

With that Mrs. Lemondrop swept out of the room and down the hall to check on the other classes. She found much the same scene in every room. In every class the room was topsy-turvy, in every class a massive tea spread had been laid, the only major difference was that each tea party had been given a different theme. Along with the Wonderland tea, the circus clown tea, the Punch and Judy tea, the fairytale tea, the teddy bear tea and so on down the line. Once some semblance of structure had been restored and the children's suppers had been thoroughly spoiled, the Head Mistress declared and early end to the school day. Once every student had been sent on their way home the teaching staff gathered at the front entryway to the school to deal with the clean up. They were a glum and dejected lot, not only were they exhausted by the strain of dealing with several hundred overly excited children bouncing off the walls but now they also had to face a long hard night of physical labor trying to get the classrooms back to a state fit for teaching. With aching backs and screaming feet the teachers came to the first classroom opened the door and gawked. The room had somehow righted itself in the few minutes that everyone was gone. The tea spread had vanished, the lights hung from the ceiling, the furniture was in its proper layout on the floor the only hint that anything had been at all amiss was a bottle of fine wine set on the teachers desk next to a bottle of Aspirin, both tied with big red bows.

Meanwhile a certain odd couple sat and enjoyed their own tea time picnic while watching the fallout at the school through a mirror hung on a tree and enchanted by Crowley to be a magic window into the school. Crowley smiled at the ravishing vision in black seated beside him as she daintily bit into a strawberry tart and then gazed up at him with sparkling blue eyes.

"Well angel what do you think of our mayhem, not bad for a days work eh?"

"Oh it worked out splendidly Crowley my dear, causing so much chaos and disorder should be just the thing to make me Fall especially in such a hallowed place of learning."

"Yep! disobedience, gluttony and frivolity, all fine infernal traits to pass on to the next generation!" Crowley boasted all the while knowing perfectly well that of those only gluttony was a sin and even then, well, one tea party does not a glutton make. But he had to make this look good or his angel might just go and do something that really would cause her to Fall and that could not be allowed.

"Come on angel I've heard of an especially good pub just over the Scottish boarder where we can celebrate."

"Actually I think it might be best if you went without me tonight my dear."

"Sick of being around me already angel?" Crowley snarked trying to ignore the sting of being rebuffed.

"Oh no dear one, far from it in fact. It's just that with me being likely to get stuck down soon, it might be better if I avoided being around any innocent bystanders if you take my meaning."

"Alright if your worried about the humans safety, then you can come spend a nice cozy evening with me at my place instead."

"I don't think that is a good idea either my dear. Not when it would still place you at risk."

"Angel I'm far from being innocent or a bystander."

"None the less I must insist on being left to face my Judgment and my Punishment alone."

"If that is your wish then I would suggest the gardens back at my place would be best"

"Thankyou and I accept your kind offer, only please keep your distance tonight I don't think I could bear it if I lost you."

With a sad sigh Crowley nodded his ascent and cleaned their picnic before loading his angel back into the carriage and turning towards home. When they arrived Aziraphale went straight to the gardens to isolate herself in preperation for Gods divine wrath and spent the rest of the afternoon and on into the evening pacing and fretting and waiting. The evening gave way to darker night, the stars studded the dark indigo of the sky and still the angel paced and watched, awaiting her doom.

Watching her angels distress from afar the Almighty shook her head and smiled sadly at the scene playing out before her. God could not help but note the fear that was in her angels heart as she waited, as well as the concern coming from a certain serpent that had slithered in amongst the bushes and now was also keeping watch, albeit in secret. Finally as the clock in the house struck twelve, God made a motion, as if blowing a kiss, and Aziraphale suddenly felt a great weariness take her. For the first time in her existence the angel yawned before stretching out on a garden bench, shutting her eyes and drifting off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun. I would like to say a word about Head Mistress Lemondrop and the implication that she uses a paddle to spank her students. It is not that she is a bad teacher, in fact she is a very good teacher who tries to do what is best for her charges. But she is a teacher of her time which is 1912 a time when society was still very much in the mind set of "Spare the rod spoil the child". Therefore I ask that you consider her within her historical context and not judge her too harshly. Fun fact: other techniques that she used such as redirection, using the visual cues to signal the students for attention and turning Crowleys' chaos into a teachable moment are all still used by teachers today.


	6. Wake Up Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to wake up and scheme anew.

Aziraphale awoke to the warm and comfy sensation of a good, heavy blanket drawn over her shoulders, a soft pillow beneath her head and the sunlight playing across her face. The vague and fading memory of being lovingly cradled in her dreams played at the edge of her thoughts as she stretched and yawned. Suddenly the wayward principality sat up with a gasp as she finally recalled what she had been doing before she fell asleep. She had been alone outside waiting for Gods wrath to strike her down. Quickly Ariraphale pulled out her wings to check them and sure enough they were still as white as snow, clearly the Lord had decided that her part in _"the tea party_ _incident"_ was not worthy of Falling over.

With a sigh the angel next took stock of her surroundings. To be honest she was much more concerned by the fact that she fell asleep in the first place than the fact that she woke to find herself back in Crowleys guest room. She could not help but smile at the thought of Crowley tucking her in last night.

"of course that doesn't mean that I won't still scold him for coming after me when I asked him not to. It truly was devils luck that my dear demon did not draw Gods ire." 

Aziraphale shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to her dear demon if the Almighty had dropped by. Then the angel slipped back into her black dress before going to seek said demon out. She did not have far to search.

Crowley had been keeping vigil close to the angels room ever since he had brought her in from the garden a full two days ago. Generally speaking Celestial and Infernal Beings do not require sleep to live and Crowley knew for a fact that Aziraphale had never gotten into the habit of sleeping off stress the way that he had, so for his angel to suddenly drop off with a sigh while sitting on a garden bench was enough to send panic through the wily demonic heart. He had rushed to her side in an instant, checked her over, bundled her into bed and had been alternating between pacing the hall and checking in on her ever since. Suddenly just as he reached the end of the hall and was about to turn around, he heard the glorious sound of his angel calling his name, He turned and saw her up and about and standing in the doorway to her room, gazing down the hall towards him. 

"Angel! How are you feeling? Is everything alright?"

Aziraphale gave a long suffering sigh as she displayed her still white wings before responding.

"Of course my dear, I am as well as can be expected given the circumstances."

"Oh good. I've got to say angel, when I saw you just drop off like that it scared the shit out of me, especially after you started glowing like a light bulb after being out for about an hour or so."

"I started to what!? Do you mean to say that my halo was in full view!?" 

"Yep! You looked like a big cuddly glow bug. I was worried that something had gone seriously wrong with your powers."

"I don't think so, but I can check just to be sure. **_LET THERE BE LIGHT!_** ", the angel shouted with a sharp snap but nothing happened in response. "It would seem that my miracles are still blocked, but other than that everything seems to be in order my dear."

"Wait a moment, if your miracles are blocked then how is it possible for your halo to manifest on this plain of existence? For that matter how have your wings been manifesting and de-manifesting all this time?"

"Well of course the ability to hide different aspects of my corporation is not going to be included in the miracle block, if it were there would be no way for me to conceal the fact that I'm not human."

Crowley nodded his understanding but he also had the beginning of an idea (several in fact) and so he continued his line of questioning.

"So let me get this straight, so you can turn your halo on and off and reveal and hide your wings at will." 

"Correct."

"What about other parts of you? For example can you make yourself invisible, or make it so that the humans only see your wings and not the body that they're attached to?"

"Well yes dear, I suppose I could in theory do those sorts of things but why would I want to?" 

Crowley responded with a gleefully devilish smile.

"Angel I think I know what we can try next to make Fall."

"Wonderful, then you can tell me all about it over a quick breakfast my dearest. We really must get a wiggle on you know, after all we've only six days left to..."

"Three."

"Pardon?"

"We only have three days left angel. You've been asleep for three days straight, since that night in the garden."

"Three Days!!!"

"It's true angel, that's part of the reason why I was so worried about you. Are you sure that you're alright?"

The angel composed herself and once again checked herself for any damage before smiling at her demonic companion.

"As far as I can tell, everything is tick-a-tee-boo."

"Alright then" Crowley sighed in relief.

"So tell me my dear one, what's next?"

"Next?"

"In your devilish plan to make me Fall."

"Oh! Right, I was thinking that since one large temptation was not enough to cause your Fall, maybe what we need is a steady stream of mayhem to finish the job."

"I'm listening."

Meanwhile the Almighty was just getting back to her seat after seeing to a few details that needed her attention in Heaven and looking forward to seeing how her favorite long running romantic comedy was progressing. 

"And now back to our program: _'Immortal Idiots in Love'_ "God mused as she pulled up the popcorn again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be a part of a longer chapter but I decided to go ahead and post it on it's own.


	7. Porcine Aviators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Shenanigans! Huzza!

Constable Humphry Stickler was not having a good morning. It had started out peacefully enough with a dawn patrol of the village just to make sure all was in order and then back to the desk for tea and paperwork, with perhaps a bite of breakfast on the side. He had just finished his second scone and started on his third report when a frantic farmer named Mr. Stone burst into his office ranting about pigs and looking as if steam would poor from his ears at any moment.

"Constable Stickler!"

"What seems to be the problem Mr. Stone?"

"It's my pigs Constable! My two best sows! Their gone!"

"Bit of swine snatching is it? Very well, take me to the scene of the crime."

The Stone Family Farm was typical of an English Farm of the times. A collection of stone buildings and pens for the housing of people, animals and equipment built around a muddy farm yard. A large kitchen garden to see to the families needs was planted by the farmhouse and an assortment of crops in various stages of planting and growing filled the fields that stretch beyond. Of course, it being spring, the most notable thing about the farm was how it teemed with new life. Chicks and goslings scurried after their mothers in the farmyard, lambs skipped about the pastures and in the pig sty six greedy, pushy, shrill young piglets seamed determined to give bloody hell to the poor police constable who was trying to figure out what had become of their mothers.

"Are you sure that you need me to leave everything just as I found it Constable? I could clear the young'uns out of the stall if you please." said the old farmer with a wicked smirk.

"Unfortunately it is essential to leave the crime scene intact until it has been examined for clues. I'll just have to make do." Stickler responded from where he was perched on the roof of the pig hut at the end of the sty. 

He had been forced to retreat there after his first attempt at checking the pig pen for clues had been interrupted by a full on charge from the pint sized porkers that were still in the sty. Forced to seek high ground, now he was stranded and helpless to do anything but glare at the porcine hoard, who glared right back up at him as they all just sat there in stalemate. Wishing an extra crispy future as bacon upon his assailants (especially their leader, the one with the dark spot on her back and a large piece of the leg from Sticklers' pants in her jaws) Stickler removed one of his shoes and tossed it at the pigs metal food trough. The shoe flew true and struck the trough with a loud clang that caught the attention of the petulant piglets below. 

Until that point the young pigs had been determined to keep this human invader trapped and at their mercy. Not only had he had the nerve, the sheer gall, to trespass in their territory but they knew, these piglets just _knew_ that somehow someway this intruder was responsible for the disappearance of the Great Pig Mothers and now they intended to make him pay. But then the angry hoard heard the sound of the sacred food box being raided and they knew, they just _knew_ that they had been fooled. As one the miniature pig platoon turned and rushed the food trough to face their true enemy. 

Seeing his chance Stickler leapt for freedom landing just inside the outer wall of the pig pen and paused to examine a gleam of white that he noticed by his foot. A Feather? The Constable didn't remember seeing any pure white birds on this farm and certainly none big enough to have shed a feather that was large enough to have come from an Ostridge but he would be sure to question the old farmer about it anyway. 

So absorbed with his clue was the good constable that he had not noticed that his new nemesis, the piglets leader had circled back to check up on him and now she was lining up the perfect surprise attack to send him packing. With Sticklers' backside firmly in her sites, she charged and as she charged she let out a mighty squeal that startled her enemy out of his thoughts just in time to feel the full force of her onslaught. She sent him flying as she rammed into his rear end and then she sank her tough piggy teeth into the intruders rump just to make sure that he got the message. The intruder gave a most satisfying squawk of pain as with a great rip he escaped to the other side of her territories' border fence, leaving behind an impressive portion of both his pants' seat and his underwear for her to savor in her triumph.

Mr. Stone chuckled "let me get you some spare pants from the house Constable, wouldn't do for you to catch cold before you find my prize sows."

Mr. stone led the unfortunate officer into the farmhouse kitchen where he could wait to borrow some clothes. In the meantime, Stickler decided to question his star witness about his find.

"So tell me Mr. Stone, have you noticed any strange birds in these parts of late?"

"Strange how? What do birds have to do with pig snatchers any how?"

"I found this in your sty."

Stickler held up the feather for the Mr. Stone to see as the old farmer scowled at it while hemming intently.

"No I can't say that..."

The conversation was suddenly interrupted as they caught sight of something very large and very bizarre passing by the window. Glancing at each other to confirm that _yes_ they had both seen that, they rushed out of the house to gape at, _no!_ It _couldn't_ be, it just _couldn't_ , but it _was!_ Mr. Stones' two prize sows flying over the farmyard on huge feathery wings! Bluebell, the first of the sows gave a mighty squeal of triumph as she drew in her great black wings to divebomb several chickens. Meanwhile the second sow, Buttercup, was hovering on snow white wings amid the upper branches of the old apple tree that grew by the farmhouse, and delicately sniffing at the blossoms.

_"WITCHCRAFT!"_ cried the old farmer as he turned white as a sheet. 

Stickler couldn't blame him, flying pigs where not something one could ever be prepared to encounter.

"Now, now Mr. Stone just you sit down and relax, you mustn't do yourself an injury, family man such as yourself. I'll deal with this."

Mind Constable Stickler had no idea _how_ he would deal with it, but he was an officer of the law, so he would have to manage somehow. He turned back to the farmyard after reassuring Mr. Stone, but the pigs were no longer flying above it. Instead they were both back in their pig sty, surrounded by their horrible piglets and not a wing in site. So the country copper made a quick check of the pig pens to make sure all was secure and then he did a quick search of the surrounding farm yard and the nearest barns for any sign of intruders and then finding nothing, he returned to the old farmer while scratching his head in confusion.

"Well Mr. Stone it looks like your pigs are back though for the life of me I can't figure out how they got in or out in the first place."

"Indeed," said the shaken but quickly recovering farmer, "well never mind Constable, come in and I'll get you some fresh clothes."

Right then Mrs. Stone, the farmers' wife came in from a long hard morning of doing laundry in the wash house and demanded to know what the police were doing in her kitchen. After hearing her husbands' story she proclaimed that he'd clearly been at the cider much more than was good for him. She then apologized to the constable for the waste of his valuable time and insisted that he stay to lunch while she repaired his pants. Stickler was about to decline politely when the farmers daughter, a fine young woman by the name of Rachel, came in from foraging the hedgerow and insisted that he simply must accept her mothers' kind offer, after all it's not like he could return to town in his current state, the farmgirl pointed out while giving his exposed bum a partially amused partially appreciative appraisal before going to fetch her fathers spare trousers. A blushing Stickler was forced to concede that staying a while probably would be the best option after all as he went to change into the spare pants before joining the family at table. 

Soon the first hints of the fondness that might give rise to young love could be felt by the invisible angel who along with her demon companion was watching the humans enjoy their noonday meal. Aziraphale could not help but to sigh wistfully at the the developing warm tingle that settled in her chest as she watched the Constable and the farmgirl exchange shy glances across the table. Of all the types of love that existed in Gods creation, romantic love was her personal favorite. Even if, as an angel, it was a form of love she, sadly, would never get to experience for herself, she could still sense it in others and enjoy seeing the happiness it gave them.

_"Though not for much longer"_ she thought to herself. Once she became a demon she would never get to enjoy this feeling again, not even second hand. It was almost enough to make her call the whole Falling project off but, no, Crowley was worth it. She would just have to keep reminding herself, no matter the pain, no matter the loss, Crowley was worth it. 

"Come on angel, lots of havoc left to reap and little time to do it in," Crowley said as he gently pulled Aziraphale away. It would not do to let his angel catch on that their pranks were largely harmless after all.

"Of course my dear, I'll never Fall properly if we just stand here after all. On to the next wicked work."

Meanwhile God sent the human couple a blessing to aid their courtship and refilled her popcorn bowl. So much good was coming out of Crowley and Aziraphales' little " _forbidden"_ romance, She just hoped that they would get to the point where they could finally allow themselves to recognize and enjoy some of that love and the resulting goodness for themselves. 


End file.
